


kisses are a better fate than wisdom

by Sometimesyoufly (faile02)



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faile02/pseuds/Sometimesyoufly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time she see him, it's across a room full of science equipment and the proverbial men in black. Darcy calls every person she see Agent J (aside from Coulson. He gets to be all Agent K, because clearly, he's in charge), all dressed in the same pressed suits. The one that catches her eye, though, is wearing combat gear, even if it does have purple highlights flecked in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kisses are a better fate than wisdom

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to turn into smut, but it just wasn't happening. I'm pretending to write a follow up with lovely morning sex, but until that happens, this stands perfectly well on it's own. :-)
> 
> Originally posted to my Tumblr.

The first time she see him, it's across a room full of science equipment and the proverbial men in black. Darcy calls every person she see Agent J (aside from Coulson. He gets to be all Agent K, because clearly, he's in charge), all dressed in the same pressed suits. The one that catches her eye, though, is wearing combat gear, even if it does have purple highlights flecked in it. 

She likes that he's a little different, holds himself away from the group, is introduced to them by Agent K with a "This is Agent Barton. He'll be my eyes and ears, and your protection. Your work is sensitive, Miss Foster, please listen to Agent Barton. He does know what he's talking about."

Hand on her taser, Darcy was pretty sure she could handle herself. 

***

Two months into watching Erik and Jane frantically work on things Darcy only vaguely understood, she realized that Barton was actually kind of cool. He taught her the folds for paper airplanes, built a marshmallow catapult, and knew the best bars for tequila thursdays. 

Darcy did not want to admit that she thought a Suit was cool, but she justified it. Barton wore combat gear most days, jeans and tees on others. And if Darcy spent a little too much time staring the curve of a bicep instead of collating the notes Jane hands her, well, it's not like anyone actually blames her.

***

It's late, and the bar is closing, and Darcy's had more than her fair share of drinks. She's pretty sure she drank most of Clint's, and maybe Jane's too. Thor probably out drank her though. The floor is a long way away from her spot on a bar stool, Darcy eyeing the distance, squinting, with one eye closed. If it weren't for her heels, she could probably make it.

Darcy's about to make the leap, legs swinging out and everything, before strong arms wrap around her waist. "Come on, drunky," he says, laughter in his voice, "Let's get you home." Clint swings Darcy up, carrying her over his shoulder like she weighed practically nothing. 

She squeals and smacks at Clint's ass, as she hangs upside down. "Are you going to carry me like this the whole way?"

"Yes, and you can stop hitting me, I can do the same thing from up here." To prove his point, Clint pats the ass so close to his face. 

"Hey!" Darcy tries to sound annoyed, but instead just ends up laughing. It's a good thing the bar is close to her apartment, it takes all of Darcy's reserve not to grab at Clint's ass the whole time home. Instead, she giggles and lets him call her names and pretend to drop her. She knows he never would, Clint is much too careful for that.

Her apartment is a walk up, and Clint swings her around to carry her in his arms. Darcy locks her arms around his neck, and buries her face into the soft fabric of his shirt. Suddenly, she's tired, doesn't even blink when Clint slides a hand into her pocket to pull out a key, three floors up, Instead, she's yawning slightly, turning into him. 

"Hey," Clint says, only juggling slightly to open the door without dropping her. "No sleeping until we get some water in you." It's not hard to find Darcy's room, Clint's been to her apartment before. He leans over, intending to drop her down on the bed, but Darcy won't let go, arms tightening around Clint's neck. "Darce, baby, let me get you a glass of water."

"Nope," Darcy says, the laughter just a breath of air. She tugs just a bit, pulling Clint down onto the bed with her. He's either tired, or not resisting, letting Darcy pull him off balance just enough to tumble into bed with her. She laughs again, a sweet sound. Clint suddenly realizes that he wants to hear that laugh all the time. 

"Ouf," he says, trying not to crush her as he falls. Clint lands just off to the side, one arm falling across Darcy's chest. It's perfect, and he curls it around her, pulling her against his body. Darcy's eyes flutter closed for an instant, before she opens them, the smile on her lips crinkling up to her blue eyes. Her dress is low on her back, and Clint runs his fingers along her spine, enjoy the feeling of her skin. "Darcy, I'm going to kiss you." How had he never realized how much he had wanted to do that before?

"Please do," and she helps him, tipping her face up and pressing her lips against his. The kiss is chaste at first, before Clint makes a small noise, opening his mouth enough to nip at her lower lip. He shifts, pulling her even closer, his hand coming up to cup her chin. It's hot and frantic and slow perfect and everything Darcy had been waiting for. And then she yawns.

Clint bursts out laughing, pulling away enough to push back Darcy's hair, kiss the corner of her sheepish smile. "Tomorrow, we can revisit that. Right now, let's sleep." He kicks off his shoes, helps Darcy's with her heels. Darcy's still in her dress, uncaring that of the wrinkles forming, and Clint considers sleeping in his clothing, before she tells him to at least take off his jeans. "Only if you change out of that dress." There's an oversized t-shirt on the desk chair, and Darcy changes into that, looking unabashed as Clint pulls off his jeans, and strips off his button up. 

Flopping back into bed, this time, Clint pulls Darcy down with him, snuggling under covers, tangled limbs and little kisses, before Darcy falls asleep, her head on Clint's chest, his fingers in her hair.


End file.
